


Eye of the Storm

by small_songs



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A Smidgen of Flirting, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood, Fluff, Fluff and Feels, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/small_songs/pseuds/small_songs
Summary: The Warrior of Light returns from her harrowing battle amidst the accursed tides of the Sirensong Sea, but even with Lorelei's evil dispelled, there are other matters that yet haunt her...





	Eye of the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> (Also known as "Old Wounds" from tumblr.)

The relief on Alphinaud’s face as you emerged from your encounter with Lorelei was plain for all to see and utterly adorable. You had grown to find his fretting over you every time you went off headlong into danger to face innumerable foes quite endearing. And if that weren’t enough on its own, the day’s revelation of Alphinaud apparently having a fear of ghosts was quite a boon indeed! Somehow it was just so precious and somehow so very Alphinaud! For all your time together you seemed to only find more things to love about him as you grew closer.

  
“I swear, if I never hear another ghost story, it will be too soon…”

  
You chuckle and begin to make teasing remark when a cough comes up instead. It resonates through your entire rib cage as you become aware of a dull, throbbing pain, blooming into something more as the adrenaline from battle slowly leaves your system. You wave off a eyebrow arched in concern from Alphinaud.

  
“Well then, shall we be off?” The captain motions with a flourish.

  
As you trail along behind the two of them, you set your jaw as it ache grows into a needling pain, snaking its way through your torso growing ever sharper. You are resolved to ignore it, you are the Warrior of Light after all, and have already endured far worse. You simply needed to keep it together until you could get back to your blasted quarters and figure out what was going on in a more private setting.

  
You’re getting close to the ship, the throbbing is now accompanied by a sticky dampness you’re fairly certain that is not the result of sweat or sea spray, even in your hazy state. It is at this moment that Alphinaud turns around to say something you only half hear before breaking off mid-sentence at the sight of your face.

  
“Good gods, you’re white as sheet! Are you alright?! Did that...that _thing_ harm you?!”

  
You shake your head dizzily. No, that wasn’t it, you hadn’t sustained any severe damage in that fight, forcefully compelled movement excepted. Alphinaud is already at your side and you feel a hand lightly resting on your arm to steady you. His eyes are wide with worry. This isn’t good; you have to be strong for him, for everyone-

  
And that’s when it clicks, you recall the last big fight you were in was the attack on Rhalgr’s Reach. You shudder at the memory of how Zenos hit with the force of a half dozen primals, but with the ease of wielding a butcher’s knife through butter. Although a member of the Twin Adders had aided you enough to keep you from bleeding out, the wounds he made were deep and a long way from being fully healed. With all of the activity in wake of the devastation, you had been so busy you’d practically forgotten them, having grown accustomed to usually something being a bit sore every morning from all the fights you’d gotten into. Your battle against the specters and Lorelei must have reopened your wounds.

  
With tremendous effort you force yourself to focus on your elezen friend, your mouth feels dry like cotton and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears, as the world wobbles around the two of you.

“I-it’s nothing...Just some old wounds, I think. I’ll be fine...can we...can we just get to the ship?”

  
Alphinaud looks like he wants to argue that it certainly is not nothing, but bites his tongue on the account that getting you to safety was of far greater importance at that moment. Through a combination of half stumbling, half carrying on a journey which afterwards you would not be able to recall, the three of you finally made it aboard. You were rushed immediately back to your quarters and Alphinaud wasted no time in ordering for medical supplies to be brought. When he turns to you the authoritative confidence falters at the sight of his very dear friend in so much pain, despite your best efforts to hide it. Twelve only knew how terribly you actually felt, considering the state you were in and most likely still trying to play tough.

  
“I’m not dying, Alphinaud...so you can stop making that face.” You mutter weakly from your resting place upon the cushions.

  
The jibe seems to snap him from his reverie and he hurriedly moves to start sealing your wounds with his magic. Not long after a crew member comes by with the requested bandages and salves, depositing them on a side table before departing, leaving the two of you alone once more.

  
“Well, that’s a start…” He pulls back, turning his attention to the medical supplies. An odd blush dusted his cheeks as he looked appeared sheepish about what he wanted to say next. “H-however, in order to continue the process you’ll...ah... have to...disrobe. P-purely for medical reasons, of course! We can’t have you getting all stitched back together only to have you ripping away dried blood and fabric from the wounds, thus causing them to reopen again and likely at a far more inconvenient time than this-”

  
“Alphy, it’s fine.” His embarrassment was quite adorable, and it amused you that he was far more concerned with the idea of seeing you shirtless than _you_ were with being the one practically half-naked, save for your small clothes. Indeed, you were far more concerned with how you were going to manage getting it off. You still felt like all seven hells, even with preliminary work he had done to stem the bleeding.

There was a long pause before you added. “...But I might need your help.”

  
His blush extended all the way to his ears, he looked positively mortified at the mere thought, but he managed a nod and gently supported you as you, with a great deal of effort, heaved yourself upwards into a sitting position. The wounds across your torso flared in protest of the movement. You sucked in a shallow breath before gripping the hem of your tunic.

“Help me pull it off.”

With gritted teeth, you slowly, painfully begin raising your arms above your head, pulling you tunic with it. Every nerve ending in your entire torso screams and it’s a wonder that you’re not screaming yet either. Alphinaud’s hands, trembling only slightly, with a gentleness that surprises even you, helps push it up, peeling it away in places it stuck with dried blood with the utmost care, until finally you were free of it and in one smooth motion it lies discarded on the floor.

  
You spare it a woeful glance, wondering if you’ll ever manage to get the stains out of it now. Perhaps in all her skill with making clothes Tataru had come across a remedy for ridding one’s garments of bloodstains. You hoped so, you really did like that shirt. You look back to Alphinaud whose gaze was locked on the series of hideous, weeping gashes that spanned across your chest and your stomach.

Just one stroke from Zenos’ blade had felled so many and critically wounded other members of the Scions and Resistance alike, and yet here you were with several and some twice as deep. And that’s when it hits him just how close he could have been once more to losing you forever. It was a miracle you were still standing, and even after he had just sent you out to slay undead ghostly fiends! Come to think of it, hadn’t you been running errands again only minutes after receiving those wounds?! Seven hells, why was he never by your side when you had to stare death in the face? When you needed him the most? He had to do better, he had to be stronger, so that things like...this wouldn’t happen to you anymore. Your struggles together were only going to get more difficult from here on out and without help one day would go out to meet your enemies and...and...not come back… Gods, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what he would do without you. What good would there really be in saving an Eorzea you weren’t in?

  
“Keep staring like that and you’ll make me blush.”

  
He blinks, startled, as if he had forgotten the rest of you was still here. Your weak lopsided grin causes his heart to stutter and he is the one blushing. Here you were, once again, trying to take care of him, pulling him back from the edge of darkness, despite you being the one bleeding out in front of him. Now was no time to wallow, you were alive and still here, and there were things he could do to help you now.

  
“Forgive me, my friend. Let’s try to patch you up now, shall we?”

  
Shifting into a better position for the bandages to be applied is agony, but Alphinaud holds your hand as you carefully adjust yourself ilm by painful ilm. You fear at one point you’re going to crush those slim, delicate fingers from the way you grip his hand, but he makes no complaint. He reaches into a jar full of some goop that smells strongly of potent herbs: a salve of some kind, you assume through the haze that has begun collecting in your mind. Those same delicate fingers spread the salve across your wounds with gossamer touches. The contact still burns, but it also soothes.

_‘_ _Like a lover’s touch..._ ’ your mind supplies in its muddled state.

How silly! This was something purely perfunctory, as most things were with Alphinaud, surely it must be the blood loss talking...and not the way those blue eyes peered up at you so attentively through those lashes after every shuddering breath of yours beneath his hand, not how your own heartbeat had taken up the rhythm of drunken percussionist, not how sweet, how loving he looked. ...No surely not.

  
“Almost done” comes the whisper in your ear you certainly were not prepared for. “Are you doing alright?”

  
You search for some quip, some sassy little remark, but none comes. Even if your brain could have offered a reply, you’re not sure you’d even be able to utter it, so you simply nod.

“Good.” Although the gentle way he rubs your upper arm in comfort before reaching for the bandages has you thinking you may just die right here and now, but from a reason entirely unrelated to your wounds.

Confidence has stilled his hands, but he still goes slowly winding the gauze around your midsection. It’s difficult at first, he stops at every hiss of pain from you to confirm that you are in fact alright, before continuing. Despite the slow going the task is eventually completed, your torso bound enough to protect the wounds, but loose enough for you to breathe without difficulty. Much to the both your relief, you are no longer at the risk of dying from blood loss. The fog in your mind has rolled in thickly, you hang on to consciousness by a slim wisp, Alphinaud is saying something but you can’t string the words together. Gods you’re tired. He repeats it, but it sounds even farther away now as the cabin fades out of focus...

  
\---

  
The next thing you remember is waking up with something soft beneath your head and something nudging your hand. One eye groggily cracks open to see the bright face of a carbuncle who seems to have taken up residence nestled up by your side, nuzzling against your open palm. Oh, it would also seem your clothes had been changed, you noticed the sleeve of some loose cotton tunic that was a bit too long for you. The carbuncle seems to have taken an interest as well as it experimentally chews at the cuff.

  
“Ah, at last she stirs.” You hear a chuckle come from above you followed by the light touch of someone smoothing your hair back from your brow.

  
Where there’s the carbuncle, there’s Alphinaud...and evidently with your head resting on his lap. You curse yourself as you feel a blush creeping up the sides of your own neck.

  
“Feeling better?”

  
“...not quite as awful.” You murmur, your voice still husky with sleep.

  
“Yes, well one would hope so considering the state you were in.” He pauses for a moment, looking quite serious. “You...you really gave me a fright.”

  
“Worried I’d turn into a ghost and haunt you?” You tease, trying to break the tension.

  
“P-please don’t talk like that.” It didn’t work. He has the look of a puppy who had just been kicked. Gods, that expression somehow managed to hurt just as much as Zenos’ blade. “I...I don’t think I could bear it if we lost you too…”

  
“Hey.” His sullen expression is broken by the sudden sensation of your hand cupping his cheek. Your thumb idly stroking the soft skin beneath it, wiping away a rebellious tear that had slipped out. “We’re gonna be okay…” You smile, even as you feel your own eyes water at his confession. “It’s you and me, and all our allies. We’ll figure this out, just like we always have. I know...I know as long as I’ve got you by my side we can take on anything our enemies might throw at us.”

  
Alphinaud smiles, one of his hands holding yours over his cheek. It’s like watching the sun peek through the clouds after the storm. You’ve faced the impossible together before and you could face it again, always finding strength in each other, even as you falter. “We will. ...Just promise me you’ll exercise the slightest bit more caution in the future?”

  
You sigh dramatically, before glancing back up at him with a grin. “If you insist.”

  
His own smile turns into something a bit more mischievous, and before you can ask him what the source of his sly expression is, he leans into the hand he’s laced with his and places a delicate kiss against your palm.

  
And it is at that moment Tataru bursts open through the door with a tray loaded with bread and cheeses and small fruits. “How’s the patient doing?”

  
It is all you can do to keep from shrieking in surprise, and Alphinaud releases your hand as though it were suddenly a white hot coal, but alas ‘twas not nearly fast enough to escape the notice of his eagle-eyed sister as she follows in Tataru’s wake.

  
“Evidently well enough, seeing as she under the care of an extremely attentive chirurgeon~”

  
Alphinaud sputters out some form of protest as you groan and squeeze your eyes shut as if it will somehow ward off the embarrassment. Alisaie and Tataru are still giggling when you open your eyes; even the carbuncle looked like it was smirking back up at you! Twelve preserve you, how were you going to live this down? You sneak a peek back up at Alphinaud, who’s blushing as deeply as you are.

Guess you’ll just have to suffer through this one together...as you should be.


End file.
